


Sight Not Required

by punknerdmusings



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punknerdmusings/pseuds/punknerdmusings
Summary: Dark and Host are more similar than the rest know.





	1. Chapter 1

He woke up from his slumber, his eyes fluttering open as he instinctively pushed his magic out, using it to probe every last corner of his room. Once he was satisfied that everything was in place, with no intruders, he slowly sat up, running a hand through his hair. He sighed, trying to remember what day it was. Did he have a meeting? Were any of the others waiting for him? Or was it a rare day that he had to himself, finally?

After a few tense heartbeats, he relaxed, sighing softly. No urgent knock on the door, as he stood and quietly went to his bathroom. He checked to make sure his towels were in place before stepping into the shower, sans clothes. Dirt washed off as he scrubbed, humming softly. And soon enough, he was out, drying off and wandering back out, grabbing some clothes. He had to double check that he buttoned his shirt right, but he dressed casually as he could while maintaining his appearance. Once he was positive everything was right, he stepped out into the hallway, his magic flooding it invisibly as he checked to see if anyone was there. Once again, he was grateful for the absence, strolling down the hallway to the kitchen for a nice cup of coffee. The pot was already filled, and he poured himself a mug, carefully leaning on the counter and sipping. His magic simmered at the door as he closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

At least, until there was a pop and an arm thrown around his shoulders. He couldn’t catch what the voice was saying, his instincts just kicked in and he was throwing them to the ground before he realized what was going on, his companion groaning softly on the ground. He quickly schooled his face into a sneer, picking up his mug again and drinking before saying anything.

“It serves you right to sneak up on me, Wilford.” Hopefully he was the only one who noticed his shaking hand as he took another sip.

Only a groan answered him as he finished his coffee and stepped to the sink, rinsing out the mug with practiced hand movements. He was quick to leave after that, after carefully sending off a message to Dr. Iplier to check on Wilford in the kitchen. And with that, Dark slid out to the garden, letting the aroma of flowers surround him as he meandered down the the trail, retracting his magic so he didn’t wear himself out. He crouched down near some budding roses, brushing a gentle hand over them to make sure they were growing straight. Smiling, he stood, brushing his hands off as he walked further. His next stop was the large, gnarled tree, and he settled down on the far side of it, to block the view from the house as he pulled out a book, smiling as he ran a finger over the title. Soon, he was reading, losing himself in the book, his favorite. So much so that he didn’t notice someone approach the tree, jumping when the figure sunk down beside him. It took a heartbeat for Dark to register the murmured narrations, and to drop his shoulders in relaxation.

“Host, you scared me.”

“The Host apologizes, Dark, he did not mean to. He just wanted to guide Dr. Iplier out here.”

At that, Dark’s walls went back up and he snapped the book shut, tucking it back away in his pocket dimension. His hand shook slightly as he ran it over his shirt, making sure that any leaves that fell were brushed off. He did the same to his pants once he stood, before stepping out from behind the tree and waiting for Dr. Iplier to speak.

“Wilford will be okay, he just needs to rest today. Lay down, ice his back. I’ve got him doing that now, in the clinic.”

Dark nodded, giving his voice a hard edge. “Thank you, Dr. Iplier.” He waited for the doctor to briskly walk off, before relaxing, his shoulders releasing tension as Host came over, rubbing his shoulders gently.

“You really should tell them, Dark.”

“Host… I don’t… You know they all see you differently than they saw Author. And I’m scared of how their opinion will change with this.”

“I know, Dark. But at the same time, you can’t keep this up forever. One day, you’re going to run out of magic and then into a wall.”

Dark sighed, leaning into Host’s hands, letting the librarian push deeply and undo the knots in his shoulders. “I know, and I’m scared of that, too. I guess I just… Don’t know how to tell them.”

“Try one at a time. Start with Wilford, then move to another. It’ll be easier the more people you tell.”

“I… Maybe. I don’t… I don’t know.”

Host sighed, wrapping an arm around Dark. When he didn’t pull away, Host shifted, giving Dark a full hug. “I know that this is so new, and so hard, but the others knowing will make this easier. They can help, Dark, I promise you that.”

Dark shrugged, gently resting his chin on Host’s shoulder. Too much had happened, he could too clearly remember Anti glitching in, taking control, leaving his mark. The blinding pain that he had gone through in the first few days, the agonizing weeks of regaining his strength bit by bit. The small things left over, his eyesight gone, the pain in his back, his knee. There were days he didn’t want to get out of bed, he couldn’t get out of bed, days where Host had to come and help him do even the most basic of tasks as he sat there, unable to even react. He couldn’t tell the others. Not yet.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Host gently helping him stand, murmuring quiet words of encouragement. Dark leaned on him briefly before standing straight, his magic going out and seeing if there was anyone else in the garden. He relaxed once he confirmed they were alone, letting Host take his hand and lead him out, to the library. A cup of hot chocolate was pushed into his hands, a blanket draped around his shoulders. 

“Is today free for you?”

“Yeah, it is. I’m… Glad it is. I don’t… I don’t think today is a good day.”

He’s guided to the back, where Host had a little nook. Host sits, tugging Dark down onto the couch, where he leaned into Host, sipping his warm, sweet drink. All Host did was sit there, gently rubbing Dark’s back, comforting him. And once the hot chocolate is done, Dark burrows into Host’s chest, curling into him.

“I want the memories to go away, Host.”

“I know, Dark. I know.”

It takes him a while, but Dark pulls away, still leaning on Host. “Thank you, Host, for everything.”

“Of course, Dark.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark, and there was a glitchy giggle behind him. He was gagged, his hands tied above his head. He was desperately straining to see, his shoulders and calves aching as he strained to paw the ground with the tips of his toes. But what was more effective to spinning him was the blow to his back, pain burning through him as he twirled and swung wildly in all directions. Tears streaked down his face as the voice whispered in his head.

“Dance for me, pretty boy.”

Dark woke with a scream that he couldn’t release, frantically clawing at the gag that wasn’t there. It took him long, agonizing moments to realize that the only thing trapping him was his twisted pajama pants, the only reason his jaw ached was him clenching his teeth, not the other way around. He shuddered, standing only to adjust his pants before sinking back onto the bed, air chilling the scars on his back as he hunched over, trying to banish the nightmare to the recesses of his mind.

The peace he was trying to achieve was broken by enthusiastic knocking on his door, and Wilford’s booming, exuberant voice.

“Dark! There’ll be a meeting soon, get ready!”

“I’m coming, WIll, so shut up.”

He scrambled around, trying to find a shirt and pants, jacket and tie. It took him far too long, the seconds dragging by as he hunted the floor of his room, but he managed to find some in a corner that weren’t too wrinkled. He pulled them on, wincing as he went too fast and landed on his knee wrong. He hobbled to the door as he was tying the tie and ran a hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too disheveled. And soon, he was opening the door and sweeping past Wilford, stalking off to the meeting room as best he could while trying to disguise his limp.

Entering said meeting room, his magic did a sweep of the area, taking stock of who was where. He made his way to his seat, listening to the Host murmur what was going on, grateful the other had enough control to not peer into him. God, he didn’t know what he’d do if the others found out about how weak their leader was, how easily he crumbled.

A memory jolted through him, but he hid it behind a carefully moved jaw and clasped hands. Inside his head, however, all he could remember was the light glinting off the knife, the gleam in the glitch’s eyes, his scream tearing from his throat-

No. He couldn’t, not right now. What was Wilford blabbering about? Monkeys? Merit? Masks? Who knew. Masks. Masks masks masks masks, his mind spiraled back down, to the time a piece of him was taken, stolen from his knee, the pain still haunting him in the form of a limp and clicks, he could hear it, oh so loud every time he sat down or stood up, his own sobs echoing behind it.

A voice, far away. He couldn’t tell who it was. Dark couldn’t tell up from down any more. Okay. They were asking if he was okay. He was asking if Dark was okay. That grin. It was all he could see now, it’s all he could see and it haunted him every day and every night and with every breath, it was burned into the back of his mind, and he was never going to escape it. 

The last thing he remembered before pain exploded in the side of his head was trying to figure out who was speaking.

Dark came to stretched out on a couch, a blanket draped over him. There were two voices speaking, too faint and far away for him to hear. And his head throbbed, pounding in time with his heartbeat.

It was the last fact that reminded him exactly what had happened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Had the others found out? He tried to sit up, but the voice currently taking its turn in the conversation cut itself off, and footsteps hurried over. Soon, Host’s ink-scented hands were holding him down by the shoulders, the other quietly shushing him. Telling him to rest. Dark nodded vaguely, and tried to focus on the next sentence said by the other.

“-ease. Why won’t you let me check him?” Dr. Iplier. Singlehandedly the one most likely to find out.

“The Host knows Dark better than Dr. Iplier, and also knows that a medical examination is the last thing Dark needs. The Host can and will sufficiently care for Dark, and that is final.”

A huff. “Host. He was unresponsive before he fell, and he passed out from hitting his head. There’s a high likelihood of a concussion, so if you wou-”

“Dr. Iplier. Leave now, or the Host may ask the library to forcefully remove him. And if that happens, his concern for Dark will not be his top priority any longer.”

There were a few moments of angry silence, before Dr. Iplier left. The door slammed hard, Dark wincing as the pain in his head spiked. But soon, Host’s cool hands were pressed to his cheeks, comforting him.

“I needed his help to get you in here, my hip is experiencing a minor flare-up. But after, I clearly had issues getting him to leave, and for that I am sorry.”  
Dark shrugged, his eyes drooping shut as a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit him. “‘S okay, I understand… He’s right though, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a concussion… Felt this before…” He shuddered, remembering where. 

Host pressed a soothing hand to Dark’s shoulder. “I know. But I’ll take care of you, rearrange things so you can rest. Do you mind staying here, or would you like to go to your room?”

Dark’s response was instant. “Stay… I had a panic attack because I couldn’t… I didn’t have enough time to recover from a nightmare. And if I have another one, I don’t want to be alone.”

Wordlessly, Host shifted Dark, so he could have Dark’s head in his lap. “I’ll be right here, then, so if you have another one, you’ll know you’re safe.”  
Dark whined. “Host… You already said you’re having a flare-up, this might make it worse…”

“Right now, my goal is helping you. If it gets unbearable, I’ll do something about it, but for now, I’m going to stay right here and I’m going to keep you safe.”

“Are… Are you sure, Host?”

“More than sure, Dark. I’d do anything for you, you’re my best friend. Anyways, I’m just repaying you for helping me.” Host started to run his fingers through Dark’s hair, rhythmic and soothing.

Dark yawned, not quite able to fight the call of sleep any more. “If… If you say so, Host… Just take care of yourself, too…”

“Always, Dark.”

And with that, Dark drifted into sleep, lulled by Host’s slow, steady hand running through his hair, reminding him the other would alway be there.  
Dark’s not sure what time it was when he woke up. It was too early to be evening and too late to be night. When he could see, it was his favorite time to walk in the forest, the dimming light casting long, blurred shadows.

And now, with his sight gone, Host’s violin playing was what made him smile. The high, pure notes filling the library, Dark knew how the other swayed, lips gently parted. And he knew the piano was nearby, so he carefully sat up and made his way over to it, the blanket still wrapped tight around his shoulders. He nearly ran into the seat, but once he found it he sat, tapping his foot until he found the pedal. Tracing his hands along the keys until he found the right key, he softly played along with Host, supplementing and supporting his music. They both made a mistake now and then, but it was to be expected. They just shrugged it off, and kept playing, until Dark had to sit back with a groan and hold his head.

“Stupid concussion…”

“Need to stop?”

“Yeah… My head is throbbing.”

Host made his way over, setting the violin on the piano. He helped Dark stand, letting him lean on him so he could make his way back to the couch. 

“You should rest, Dark.”

“Mmn…”

“Dark. Rest.”

“Okay, okay. But only if you lay down too, Host. I’m sure that hip isn’t the most comfortable.”

A soft chuckle. “Alright, Dark, it’s a deal.”

And so, the two snuggled close, Host tugging a blanket over the two of them before falling asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The meeting after Dark recovered was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be a discussion on finances, one where he was only there to keep the others from getting too rowdy.

He should have known it wasn't going to be that simple. First, he had to quiet them down not once, not twice, but three times in the span of ten minutes. Second, he wasn't fully over the concussion, and still got a throbbing headache at too much noise. And third, halfway through Wilford droning on about why a cotton candy vending machine would be good in the hallway there was a pop of static, a glitchy giggle, and Wilford cutting himself off before saying “And just what are you doing here, Anti?”

Dark's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All he could do was hope that Anti would leave.

No such luck. That giggle, the laugh that haunted his dreams and waking moments, before he was grabbed and yanked out of his chair.

“Did Darkipoo not tell you? I'm sad. I told him I'd come back.”

Dark squirmed as Anti ran a knife down his side, his leg.

“I think you owe me something, pretty boy.”

The knife dug into his bad knee, and Dark cried out. His heart was in his throat, he couldn't do anything, and everyone was watching.

“And I'll take this, too.”

That's when Dark's knowledge of the room slid away, and Anti slowly drew out the knife. He was heaved into the air, his back bending unnaturally, but he didn't register any of it past his feet leaving the ground.

Instead, Dark did something he hadn't since his first night back: He screamed. He barely felt Host sprinting over, covering his body as Wilford shot Anti, the glitch growling and disappearing. He could barely feel Host's hands pressing on the stab wound to his knee, couldn't hear the others talking.

Host could, however, and as he was murmuring soothing words to a shaking, sobbing Dark, Wilford came over.

“What was that?”

“The Host reque—”

“I don't care, Host. What happened? Why did Dark just sit there? Why did he scream?”

“The Host is not at liberty to reveal that information, and he requests that you back off.”

“Poppycock. Why did he freeze?”

A new voice came through, soft. Dr. Iplier. “Something happened, didn't it?”

Host sighed. “Yes. But the Host cannot reveal what, as Dark wishes him not to. And currently, you all are not helping Dark calm down.”

Wilford seemed about to say something when Dr. Iplier cut him off. “Listen to Host. I think this is too sensitive right now.”

Wilford huffed. “Fine.” He turned on his heel, stalking off.

“The Host thanks Dr. Iplier, and requests his help once again in getting Dark to the library. They can work together to help Dark then.”

Dr. Iplier nodded, sliding his arms under Dark and lifting with Host. They made their way to the library, setting him down on the couch. Dr. Iplier went to work on the knee while Host cradled Dark's head.

“Shh, shh, it's okay, Dark. We have you.”

Dark could barely hear Host, but he latched onto the words, the fear swirling in his mind and threatening to take over.

“Dr. Iplier's gonna help your knee, alright? And then you can stay here again, I promise. For now, just breathe with me. In, and out. In, and out. In. Out. In. Out…”

Dark's breathe shuddered in and out, painfully syncing, rattling in his lungs. He could feel Host’s gentle fingers carding through his hair. The tactile sensation helped ground him, as he shifted to cling to Host.

It took awhile for Dark's mind to calm, before pain ebbed through his knee and back. He grunted, pressing in closer to Host.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay. You're okay.”

Dark nodded, his voice hoarse. “My knee…”

Host nodded. “Yeah, Dr. Iplier said you'll need to keep weight off it to let it heal properly.”

Dark shrugged, slowly sitting up with Host's help. “You know it won't be right… That much is sure.”

Host sighed. “I know, Dark. But you can at least try to heal as much as possible. For now, rest, let the knee heal.”

Dark nodded, before freezing. “I… Did anyone…?”

“Dr. Iplier has put a few pieces together. But I didn't tell them what happened. Wilford demanded to know, but I wasn't exactly inclined to answer his questions.”

Dark nodded, leaning gently on Host. “Thank you… You're a good friend.”

Host chuckled. “I try, Dark. And on that note, as well, I'm going to try to fend them off, okay? Dr. Iplier said it'll take a few days before you can put weight on the knee at all, so in the interest of avoiding their barrage, you should keep a low profile. I'll do what I can.”

Dark nodded again. “I… I'm sorry about all this.”

Host shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dark shrugged, picking at his shirt. “You know that… thing you mentioned? My magic going away?”

“Mhm.”

“It happened. He took it. And I think he’ll be back.”

Host nodded, running a slow hand through Dark’s hair. “He still wants his trophy.”

Dark sucked in a shuddering breath, nodding. He focused in on the feeling of Host’s hands, one under his head, one moving over his scalp, combing through his unkempt, sweat-soaked hair.

Not for the first time, Dark was struck with just how much he loved Host. How much the support and friendship, the platonic intimacy meant to him. Especially now, with how afraid he was to get close to any of the others, Host’s quiet love meant the world to Dark. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Host started to quietly sing. The noise swirled around Dark, soon becoming all he was. Even the pain in his knee ebbed away as Host’s song bled into and resonated with his bones, and Dark closed his eyes. It might have been pointless sightwise, but it still felt emotionally appropriate, as he soaked in the baritone of the notes, the emotion of the song filling him.

Once it was over, Host smiled, still playing with Dark’s hair. “Hey, hon? Ready for me to help you up so I can pull out the couch for you? There’s a chair nearby that you can sit in while I do.”

Dark nodded, and Host carefully helped him stand, making sure Dark wasn’t putting weight on his knee. It wasn’t far to the chair, and Host was quick to pull the bed out. It was softer than a pullout had any right to be, but it was just right for Dark to settle in, Host propping his knee up so it was more comfortable throughout the night. This was a practiced routine, from when Dark was newly back and unable to even sit up without help, but now just as then it was one full of love and care. And tonight, just like the first week back, Host slid into the bed next to Dark, so that if he had a nightmare or needed him for something else, Host was right there, ready to assist.


End file.
